


A Conversation

by marcosburlybiceps



Series: Drunk in Love: The Series [2]
Category: Red Queen Series - Victoria Aveyard
Genre: One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:51:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcosburlybiceps/pseuds/marcosburlybiceps
Summary: Maven and Wren talk. Set post chapter 7 of Drunk in Love. Maven POV.





	A Conversation

_“Today is the last day slums will exist in this country.”_

I scratch in corrections and pick up the next report. The newest Jets fall apart faster in crash landings. House Iral has another request. The radishes from northern Norta are infected. Who even eats radishes? I sign.

The thought I keep losing flits back. We need to pay the servants more. My fingers find what should be a bullet hole in my neck. A note goes into the pile: Pay servants.

Will Mare cry on top of me when she learns that one? Or choke me? I feel the idiotic grin slide back on. At least she'd be close.

A Sentinel knocks in the pattern that means a rare visitor. Should I increase their pay too? This has been a hell of a year.

“Enter.”

She stands in her soft yellow shirt and pants. Her dark skin makes the yellow brighter. The brightest thing in the room. Two Sentinels guard her. Ptolemus stands in the hall scowling at the bodies stopping him from joining.

“Wren.”

“Your Majesty.”

The Sentinel to the left speaks up, “She claims there’s an emergency.”

“I do more than claim, Samuel.” Her eyes are downcast and voice soft. She doesn't usually have this much spark. I see no blood or wounds.

“What’s the emergency?” I let my tone freeze over.

“Your favorite prisoner.”

“This again.”

“Yes.”

I motion to the guards to leave and scan another report. "I visit her. She has visitors. She's perfectly normal."  
  
"And she has no reason to lie."   
  
I pause, pen raised.   
  
"I talked to her at the library." She moves closer, speaks softer, "I couldn't examine her through the Stone, but she's sick."   
  
"How sick?"   
  
"Sick enough." Her devotion to keeping her patients' health to themselves is an old argument. I just barely stop a sigh.   
  
"I need some kind of detail, Wren."

“She's rapidly running out of weight to lose. Her focus is gone. She mentioned hallucinations.”

I freeze. Wren is the only one left in court that knows, that I've told.

"But you didn't examine her."  
  
"No."   
  
"So it could be anything."   
  
Wren grits her teeth "Yes." She raises her head and our eyes meet. I straighten my shoulders, only slightly, at her small push at my authority. "You complain of headaches and voices. Your definition of normal isn't normal."

She isn't the type to flinch at my flames. I ice her out instead. "Dismissed." The remaining Sentinel moves in with my wrist flick.

Wren doesn’t leave. She holds some folded paper towards me. I catch my name on the front, but I’m past caring. I flip through the next report.

“Its from Mare.”

The Sentinel is trying to guide her to the door by her elbow, but Wren is standing firm. She alternates a glare between us. I push away from the table and collect my letter. They both watch as I examine the writing. I nod and she's let go.  
  
"If you really care for her, you need to take care of her."

My grin slips off my face. “If I give her too much, she'll run.” Wren's stubborn gaze shifts to something quieter. I read the letter again, avoiding the pity. I can’t burn Norta’s best healer to a crisp.

“Now, leave.”

When I look back up, she's gone.


End file.
